


Taking the Low Road

by Charlie9646



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Death Eaters, First Time, Infidelity, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Young Love, dark themes, keeping secrets, lying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:00:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26457574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie9646/pseuds/Charlie9646
Summary: James Potter wanted to do many things in his life, but falling in love with Barty Crouch Jr. was not one of them. With the war raging on the young couple feels as they are being torn in two.One problem: he’s already married to Lily Evans.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Theo Nott, James Potter/Barty Crouch Jr., James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 41
Kudos: 69
Collections: Sing Me a Rare: UK Invasion!





	Taking the Low Road

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sing Me a Rare: The UK Invasion. Much love to my beta and alpha TakingFlight48  
> and Lorbie05  
> My song prompt was Loch Lomond, Scottish folk song 
> 
> Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made from this creation.

James Potter looked out upon the steep rocky cliffs as he felt the long wild grass that brushed against his knees, the rippling lake below him, and the sky a rather odd shade of purple as the moon slowly rose, with a detached sort of longing. Loch Lomond; he had been here many times growing up and once as a young adult on a day that he wished could have lasted forever. Everything seemed so far away, just out of his reach. 

He could nearly smell the wildflowers that were just beginning to sprout. Spring was coming, but he may not be here to see it. Nor would James be there to see his true love come home. There were rules about such things. Rules for those who were dead and had chosen to stay behind, waiting within the land of in-between. James had waited longer for Barty than he had lived. 

Out of the corner of his eye he could see a Scottish Deerhound leaping through the grass. The creature thundered past and suddenly shifted back into the human form of his best friend. 

Scratching behind his ear Sirius spoke, “You know the rules, Jamie.”

“Can’t we break them, like old times?” James asked, shoving his hands into his jacket. “He’s near death anyway, I can feel it in my very bones.” 

“All the more reason to be careful, then,” Sirius disagreed, head shaking away his request. “You will see him soon, my friend. As much as I can’t understand it. You had Lily and yet you…”

“If all you plan to do is judge me you can just leave,” he spat, turning away from him to once again stare daggers at the lake and the highlands beyond it. “Barty is finally coming home and soon we will never again be parted. Death Eater or not. I care little about the choices of men. Voldemort is dead, as dead as Bonny Prince Charlie.” 

“I promised you, James, I would stay as long as you needed me,” Sirius murmured, trying to pull him close even as James pushed him away once more. “Death Eater lover or not.”

“You are one to talk, Sirius,” James said. “Loving someone who you never opened your heart to.”

“We all made our beds. We all made our choices. Now, come he will be here soon and we must leave.”

Barty Crouch Jr would be whole once more. Death tended to do that, giving them all which they had lost in the trials of life. And here, near Loch Lomond, was their place, the cottage just beyond the trees. That was where James would wait for him once again. Nothing was guaranteed not even in death but, if you could fight a war on hope, he too could wait on it. 

In the world of the living his son, Harry, had created the opportunity for even prisoners to be buried with respect and allowed them to return home. Harry was the very best that came out of his relationship with Lily. His boy, now man, was a far better person than he ever hoped to be, something he clearly got from his mother. 

Compassion was something the Potters had never been good at. His mother used to tell him about Muggle history and the battles that they had fought and what fools they had been, but she had never fought in a war. In war there were no fools, only people who thought what they were doing was right, and willing to die for it. 

As James made his way to the cottage he thought back to the time where life seemed to stretch along endlessly. To his Hogwarts days filled with laughter and pranks. Of a Ravenclaw who always used to bite his lip as he read, blue eyes twinkling as he forced him to do better, excel more. Of a life where it seemed he could have been anything or anyone so long as he put his mind to it. It slipped away like sand through his fingers. 

Sirius had vanished to Merlin only knew where, but maybe that was for the best. His fellow Marauder would never understand this desire though the truth was, there were days James barely understood it himself.

* * *

As he walked the halls of the Ministry he considered how long he had dreamed of being an Auror; his parents wanted him to be a good proper pureblood and go into politics.  _ Leave fighting to those who weren’t the last of their line  _ his father used to say. Those words fell on deaf ears. What was the point of living if you never bloody well lived?

His NEWTs scores had been good enough to get into the program, thanks mostly to his unofficial, shyly handsome tutor Crouch Jr as they jokingly called him. 

_ Speaking of the man that couldn’t be, could it?  _ James thought.  _ It was.  _

Sitting outside of his father’s office, brown wavy hair, always wild and maybe even a little bit tangled, was Barty Crouch Jr. Although, he was no one to talk about hair, as he ran his hand through his own unruly strands. Barty wore a dark brown leather jacket, mud covered jeans and boots. 

“Crouch?” He called to the other man who looked about ready to fall asleep.

His voice in the otherwise silent hallway snapped the slouched body to attention. Blinking sleep from his eyes, “Potter? What have you been up to? It's been three years since I have seen you!” Barty stood trying, and failing, to brush the grime off.

“Four actually,” James answered, as he tangled his hand into his wild hair, making it worse but it was a bad habit he never seemed to break, but infinitely better than running it through the other man's curls. “Or at least I think it has been.”

“We aren’t in school anymore. You can call me by my first name, James, if you so choose,” Barty said, smiling widely. “How did you end up an Auror? I wouldn’t have guessed that, to be honest.”

“It's a rather long story,” he chuckled, “Actually here to have a meeting with your father of all people.” He watched Barty’s hand tugging at his wild curls as James spoke. 

“Don’t you worry I won’t hold it against you. Being an Auror or meeting with my father,” he teased, as he poked James in the ribs. His touch sent a shiver up James’ back. “Want to get a drink or something, for old time’s sake? A last bit of freedom before you're settled down with a kid? Congratulations, by the way.” 

Barty smelled of mint, leather and something that was just so utterly male. James wanted to bury his nose in the man’s neck. Kiss it even. 

_ What in Merlin’s hairy balls was he thinking?  _ His mind scrambled.  _ He was married. Married to the prettiest girl he had ever seen and she was pregnant with his son. Lily didn’t deserve this. Not one fucking bit, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, now would it? _

“I would love to,” James said. “Just gotta have this meeting and then I can clock out.”

“I’ll be waiting for you,” Barty leaned in, fingers brushing down his arm. Teasing him. “I know a place where the firewhisky is good and the company even better.”

James straightened his robes, discreetly trying to will his slight erection away. 

_ He had a lovely, kind, generous, sweet, and beautiful wife at home. He didn’t need to go chasing after some self righteous little Ravenclaw whose lips he wanted everywhere but especially wrapped around his cock. Think of Hagrid’s parents.  _ That worked, _ thank Merlin. _

With a nod and slight blush James went to face the music. Bartemius Crouch Sr. sat behind his desk. Piles of parchment covered the table and a quill resting in the ink pot by his elbow. Grey hair and glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and a displeased look on his face.

“Potter, sit” he snapped. “I have gotten reports. Reports that you get things done, but you also break the rules.”

“But, I get the job done?” James cajoled with a smile, his foot tapping against his will. “And that’s all that matters, isn’t it?” 

“To me, yes, but not the Minister,” Crouch groused, “so you're on Knockturn Alley duty for a month.”

“A whole bloody month?” He spat, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Yes, and you are lucky that’s all you’re getting,” the man snapped. “I have a letter from Lady Narcissa Malfoy telling me you accosted her sister, Lady Lestrange, in Diagon Alley. Shouting like a bloody nut that she’s a Death Eater and talking about taking her in and strip searching her.”

“Are you out of you fucking mind? Publically messing with the Black family? For that matter the Malfoys? Go screaming about the Goyles, no one likes them, but leave the important pureblood families alone.”

“So, that’s what  _ this _ is about?” James growled. “Police those who aren’t well connected and let the guilty run free?”

“Find me some shred of proof and we can  _ politely  _ request that Lady Lestrange come in for questioning. Until then you can either keep your opinions to yourself or arrest prostitutes for the rest of your life.”

“This is wrong,” he said, starting to see red. “You know that, don’t you? But, you don’t care do you?”

Crouch picked up his quill and started writing. His slightly wrinkled face pinched. “Just do as you are told Potter and keep your nose clean.” 

“I understand you quite well,” James snarled, stomping out and slamming the door behind him. It gave a loud resounding groan but he didn’t care one bit. 

Barty was waiting just as he left him, that damned lip held firm in his teeth, “did it go well?” 

“Do I look like it went well?” He asked, then softened slightly not wanting to take his anger out on the wrong Crouch. 

“My father’s a bloody prick, isn’t he?” Barty laughed. “I would apologise for him, but my mum already does that enough.” 

“Forget it all,” James muttered. “Come on let’s go. I think I might just forget to clock out tonight.”

Barty grinned, his blue eyes like the deepest of pools, “Let’s go then, shall we?”

* * *

_ They shouldn’t be doing this, _ James thought,  _ no good would come of this.  _

And yet he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Barty rocked up onto his toes, kissing him and knotting his fingers into James’ too long hair. James plunged his tongue into the other man’s mouth, hands running up and down his sides. Women didn’t feel like this. They were too soft and far too sweet. 

They were in another run down bar for people such as themselves. A place where wizards who preferred the company of other wizards could be who they were, were safe to be one’s true self. 

The sweet sounds of Freddie Mercury’s voice supported by the band Queen filled his ears. The man was a Muggle, but what he sang about James would bet anything the man was a queer. He just had to be. Pulling away trying desperately to catch his breath; he rested his forehead against the other man’s. 

The men around them were in various stages of undress and intimacy or exhibitionism as it were. The smell of sweat, stale cigarettes, and sex filled the room. It should have been gross, but instead encouraged James to shift his hips harder against Barty’s. 

“Come home with me,” Barty shouted into his ear. “My flatmate is busy this evening so we will have the whole place to ourselves.”

“I shouldn’t, Barty… Lily, she will be worried.”

“Just tell her you unexpectedly had to work late,” the man pleaded. “My dad’s a hard arse, anyway, she knows that.”

“Fine,” James sighed, pushing his sweaty mess of curls out of his face. “But, if she bitches you are the one who is going to fake a letter from your father.”

Barty giggled. The sound was quite odd coming from the lips of a man, however, it suited him. “It’s not like I haven’t been doing that for most of my bloody life, so this isn’t that much different.” 

James bent down kissing the giggle from his lips once more.

_ He shouldn’t be doing this, _ the thoughts as sharp as a sword through his haze. 

But, there isn’t anywhere else James would rather be. Or with anyone else. This man was like a Muggle sparkler; just _ so _ alive. A simple touch caused him to feel as if Barty had set his skin alight. He might burn for this, but it would be utterly beautiful and so devastatingly sweet.

Barty took his hand and together they left the dinky little bar behind running out of it like schoolboys they no longer were and apparating outside the man’s flat. It was February, with snow following around them, but it was as if the cold couldn’t touch him. As if it didn’t really matter in the end. 

“Come on,” Barty muttered. “Let’s get in and get out of the cold. I happen to not like the idea of my balls freezing off, but who knows that might be something you're into.”

“It isn’t,” James laughed. “But, it’s impolite to unlock someone else’s door.” 

“ _ Aolohomora,”  _ the younger man whispered, not bothering to take out his wand. 

James followed Barty into the small flat, stripping off his cloak and hanging it on one of the hooks by the door and toeing his boots off as Barty did, following suit as he rested them by the door. “How did you do that? And how did you know I was gay?”

“How did I know you were gay? Lover boy, no straight boy pays as much attention to another man as you did to Snape.” Barty teased, grinning madly. “And wandless magic? It’s easy and I can teach you sometime if you would like.”

“Says the person who got twelve fucking OWLs. How did you even manage that?” he grumbled. “I can promise you one thing, I never, not in a million years, ever want to fuck Snape.”

“Brightest wizard of his age, speaking. Well actually I think I might share that title with Severus, but Slughorn liked me best,” his small nose wrinkling and a laugh escaped his lips. “Something to do with my pleasant personality, which Severus lacks. And be nice, would you? He’s really not all that bad.”

“So you claim,” he huffed. “Don’t you talk about that wanker when I am about to fuck you.”

Barty rose up on his toes and said, “if you promise just that.”

“I don’t like making promises that I can’t keep,” James mumbled against his lips. “But, that one I can keep.”

They stumbled their way to Barty’s room, stopping every so often to rip another piece of clothing off each other. They were naked once they reached his bed.

“Sorry about the mess,” the other man muttered. “If I knew I was having company…”

“It’s fine,” he laughed. “I lived with Sirius; he’s got this wretched habit of throwing his boots around. Nothing can be worse than stepping on one of those. Have you ever done this before?” 

James sat on the edge of the unmade bed not bothering to try to hide himself. He might have been this side of tipsy, but knew that he wanted this, badly. The mess wasn’t too bad with some clothes on the floor and potion’s bottles covering both the dresser and the night stand. 

“A few times in school and then with a Muggle or two,” Barty said as he dug around in his nightstand. “Call it teenage rebellion of a sorts, but never someone I actually cared about.”

“Barty…”

His head snapped up, “Please, don’t say it. Don’t tell me this is just sex for you. I want to believe, just for a little while, you aren’t going to run back to Evans, that you care for me.”

Those words were like a slicing hex to the chest, each one layered over the other. James didn’t know exactly what to say. Lily was wonderful and everything his father insisted he needed in a wife, a partner. He knew he was the last of the Potters, that Lily would leave him if he didn’t act like the  _ straight _ , loyal man. He wasn’t sure he could swallow being the reason his family died out.

“I always been you Barty, however, life isn’t only about who you love, but what I must do for my legacy,” James said sighing as he leaned back heavily on the bed. “If that wasn’t the case I would…”

Barty pounced on him; tipping his chin back as he did. His touch was like fire and yet James still shivered. “I said, Jamie, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care about what’s outside of this room.” His blue eyes were as sharp as glass.

“I have never done this before, so how do we do this?” 

“Like this,” he tossed the condom and the bottle of lube next to them. Kissing his lover once again, pulling away he mumbled, “you worry about doing the fucking and I will worry about the rest.”

It went quickly after that. A tangle of limbs and something that was so tight it felt like a vice. Sex wasn’t normally this all consuming, was it? Or at least it hadn’t been before. James could barely think about anything but the man under him. 

As he felt himself shutter over Barty, running his hands over his smaller frame, he could escape for a moment in his mind to a reality where this could lead to something. 

Where they could have been together publicly in school, continued and actually be in love now. But this, this bliss couldn’t continue. It just wasn’t fair to anyone. And yet James had never been kissed, touched, enveloped like this. He was unable to tell where one began and the other ended. 

His fingers dug sharply into the headboard, closer and closer trying to keep his eyes on Barty below. Whines slipping from Barty’s lips no matter how hard he bit down on them as his fingers wrapped around his cock and then he saw it. 

Barty Crouch Jr. had the dark mark. Clear as day the inky black mark marred his pale skin, the skull and snake moved as his fist pumped up and down his own member. It was plastered on the walls of the Auror breakroom, a stark black and white to remind them of who the  _ real  _ monsters were. James knew he should pull away, run and go straight to Moody with the Crouch family's dirty  _ little _ secret. But he didn’t. 

He couldn’t and he wouldn’t. 

James had always loved this man. He wasn’t something to be used and tossed away. The very knowledge of what he knew should have left him soft and yet it did no such thing. If the bastard could imprint on Barty’s soul James would do the same. Show his lover what was waiting for him if he took the high road and not the low. 

“You are so bloody wonderful, so amazing,” James cried out somewhere between a song and a prayer. Barty came, dragging James along with him not long after. 

His cock softened and he slipped out of the man. Pulling him close before either of them could truly catch their breath. For once in his life James had nothing to say, what could he? What could be said that could add to how right this moment felt? 

Words would waste the limited time they had together. They both made their choices, were clearly on opposite sides of the fight, and yet James had a gnawing, twisted feeling he would be in this room again. No matter how much he knew this could only exist once, knew that to return would only lead to trouble and pain. 

“Can we pretend you are staying, just for a few moments?” Barty asked, evading James’ gaze. 

“For as long as you’ll have me,” James whispered. “Just write that letter like you promised.”

“We can talk about  _ this _ if you want to,” the other man mumbled, hand running along his inner left arm. “I... It's a long story though.”

“And one day you can tell me,” James sighed . “Just as I will one day tell you why I became an Auror.”

James was of time minds. One part told him to run and never look back, the other wanted to hold on as tight as he possibly could.

The rest of the world didn’t exist outside of this room. Not really. It could wait until tomorrow. Worries about Death Eaters, his wife, Auror duties and how James was going to make damn well sure he got You-Know-Who’s claws out of his Barty Crouch Jr. He was James Fucking Potter and he could do anything he put his mind to. 

Anything. Even if it took his whole life to do it. 

* * *

They didn’t talk about  _ it _ . Barty kept his mark hidden from him behind clothing and  _ noxing  _ the candles when he was out of them. It was understandable that James nearly forgot about it. However, once in a blue the reminder would return like a rock in his shoe. It was always there this deep nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach, but only if he thought about it. 

So, James didn’t think about it.

They went to bars, they kissed, and they fucked every which way. For a time they pretended to be two Muggle men in love. One with a strange tattoo he wasn’t proud of and the other with a wedding ring he hid in his coat pocket. 

Barty wasn’t like the others. Not like Bellatrix with her crazy Mudblood ramblings, not like Snape with his glare that made you wonder if he was digging around in your mind, and not like Regulus, the outright fantic. No, Barty was not like them, nor would James ever let him become one of them come hell or high water. 

Barty continued to fake letters from his father. He laughed at this act, because it was so easier to find humor than allow the guilt to fester. But, the letters got her off his arse for a while. Sirius, wasn’t so easy to convince. 

The man could sniff out information like it was his job. In a way it kind of was. 

“So what’s got you so chipper?” Sirius asked, as he plopped down on James’ desk. “Arrest a pretty witch or something? Mind introducing me if you did?”

“No, actually I haven’t,” James said, shoving his friend lightly off his desk. “And even if I did I wouldn’t let you.”

“So, then what made you so happy? Lily stop puking or something?”   
  


“Something like that,” he muttered. “Heading home early, today. Moody’s fine with it.”

With a forced grin James didn’t bother waiting for an answer as he bolted to the Apparation point. As soon as his boots hit the pavement he was out of there. Landing in Edinburgh Scotland with its thatched roofs and cobblestone streets. 

James could finally breathe; Barty was standing in a doorway, hands shoved deep in his pockets, smiling at him sweetly. It made James feel like everything was fine, being together again. He didn’t wait for the other man to speak pulling him close and kissing him hard. Barty tasted like coffee and whiskey. Smelled like leather, rain and herbs. 

No one they knew lived here, so here they could pretend. Pretend like a child living as knights with kings and dragons. It was escapism at its very best, and tasted oh so sweet.

“So, what do you want to do?” James mumbled against Barty’s lips, running a hand along his jaw, tilting his face for a better angle. “We could go to the bar, take a walk by the river, or we could just skip it all and get straight to the  _ fun _ part.” 

“Is that all I’m good for?” Barty teased. “Because I would think you’d find tons of other uses for me.” 

“You would think, but that might not be the case,” he laughed.

“You are a total arse, James Potter,” the man growled, without any bite. “You are lucky I like you. Plus, I have plans for us.”

“Can you tell me?” James asked, “or is it some sort of secret?” 

“You will just have to wait and see, Jamie, but I think you’re going to like it.” Barty grabbed his hand and then they were off like thieves in the night. The only thing that mattered was this instant.

* * *

The snow under their feet was just starting to melt. The air was still cold as the wind whipped James’ wild hair around him. They stood on a sharp rocky cliff on the lake of Loch Lomond. Birds chirping softly in the trees as the mountains rose above them, the highlands surrounding them and the sun shining brightly against the lake’s surface. 

_ What would his life have been like if he let the hat put him in Slytherin without argument?  _ James thought eyes darting to Barty’s crystal blue eyes,  _ would have been easier? Would the green and silver have allowed him to truly be himself, or simply a different coloured closet? Where would he be today if he would have taken the low road and not the high? _

Before he could feel the clouds of doubts and the right decisions move in and encourage him to step back, break his own heart, and apparate away from his happiness he pulled Barty close and kissed him. Fingers twisting into his hair, he breathed him in deeper, trying to escape the thoughts that filled his mind. 

James would take whatever he could get; even if it meant living in two different worlds. 

“I think I could love you, Jamie,” Barty said softly as they parted for air, “In a different life.”

“Why can’t you love me in this life?” He murmured. 

“Because I know your heart doesn’t solely belong to me.” Barty pulled away and stared at the lake, thunder clouds starting to gather overhead.

A bad storm was coming; James could feel it in his bones, he just didn’t know if it was indicative of his double life or the brewing war. 

“If my heart belongs to anyone but myself, Barty Crouch Jr,” James confessed, “it belongs to you.”

“Potter,” he sighed. “You’re confused. It belongs to your bloody wife and your son.” 

“And if I stripped you naked and fucked my love into you right here would that show you?” They were dancing around each bringing each other to heaven and hell, ruin and redemption.  __

“I would enjoy every fucking second of it,” Barty snapped. “But, it wouldn’t change a bloody thing. And I rather prefer shagging in a bed, but that’s just me.”

“So would I,” James retorted. “But where?”

“There’s an abandoned cottage not too far from here that I’ve been to before.”

“Let’s go then,” he said. “And we can worry about the rest another time.”

* * *

James realized Lily knew something was up, but it was easier to not bring it up. That didn’t mean he wasn’t curious. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try and deal with his wife before she caused an issue. 

So, James stood there digging through Lily’s letters. There was nothing worrisome in them, just letters about baby crap from Alice, Marlene going on about Sirius who wouldn’t seem to give her the time of day, and writings from Sev-wait what…

_ Why in bloody hell was his wife getting letters from Severus Snape? The roach wouldn’t seem to fucking die or disappear.  _

Lily swore they hadn’t spoken since 6th year whenever he came up in conversation. . So why the fuck did this letter, dated recently, sound like it was friends talking not old acquaintances. 

Reverting back to Gryffindor brash, he shouted, “Lily, what the hell is this? You told me you don’t speak!”

“Because it didn’t seem freaking important or any of your business,” Lily growled from where she stood in the doorway.

“Snape? Have you lost your mind? He’s a bloody Death Eater. If it affects your safety it is my business,” he snarled. 

“And his mother just died, you toe rag” she spat back. “Or did you not take the time to read the actual contents, seeing only his name and blowing your fucking top?” 

“He’s a monster, Lily.”

“And he was my friend.”

“I thought that ended years ago,” James sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You told me…”   
  


“Eileen was like a mother to me,” Lily bit out, nose to nose with James. “She was all Severus had. I will write and talk to whoever I want to. I will go to whatever bloody fucking funeral I want to. And you know what? The man who pledged himself to me for life, who is out cheating on me regularly, has no right to get on his high horse right now. Who is it? Marlene? Ava? Some bimbo at work? I’ve been warned but didn’t dare believe them. I should have.”

“It’s not someone you know…” he said, unwilling to lie any further. “And I don’t love him.” James barely choked out, both of them knowing he was lying through his teeth, but was another web in the weave he was caccooning himself in. 

“ _ Him _ ?” She stuttered, her shock causing her to shake. “You’re cheating on me with a man! For the love of Merlin, you arse why marry me? Who is it?”   
  
“You don’t know him.”

“I didn’t ask if I knew him,” Lily growled, banging her fist against the wall, rattling a picture of the two of them off the wardrobe and in a heap onto the floor. “I asked who he was!” 

“Crouch Jr,” James whispered, eyes on the cracked frame, hiding from Lily’s judgemental green gaze. “I will stop. I can stop. Anytime.” He gasped, clutching his chest to force more of the lie out, “It’s just sex, Lily, it’s you. I love you, so much, and I would never leave you or the baby. We are a family and he’s just…”

“I feel sad for him,” she hissed. “And you because even I can tell that you’re lying.” 

“You judge me while you’re going to go hang around a confirmed Death Eater,” he hissed back. “If you insist on going I am going with you.”

“So you can act like an utter nutter?” Lily snapped, walking away. “No thank you. Remus is coming and he won’t do anything he would regret.”

“Snape’s a Death Eater!” James cried, trying to pull her closer to him. “Can’t you see that?”

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she said, her face was as red as her hair, the anger that came off of her in waves nearly palpable. “You lost the right to act like you actually care. All I see in this moment is what you have done. Think about the life you want to live, because you can’t have both of us.”

With that Lily was gone, heavy wool cloak wrapped tightly around her, sucking the life out of the room with her departure. James fell to the floor like a marionette who had his strings cut, all possibilities now laid out before him as everything else stood still. 

_ Could he do it?  _ James considered,  _ could he walk away from either person he loved?  _

James was going to be a father and it was time to grow up. Is that what growing up was then, taking actions that felt like cutting out his own heart and stomping on it. 

A wail echoed through the halls of his small home.  _ Who was screaming? _ He thought.  _ Oh, it's me.  _

Tears kept falling as James prepared to write a goodbye to Barty. The end neither discussed but both expected. He’d be surprised if Barty could read through the fat tears smudging the ink.  _ This had to be done, _ his hand shook, _ and it never should have started in the first place.  _

James watched Harvey fly away with his happiness as he chose obligation this day. On a bright sunny day everything in his life was falling apart; yet the rest of the world didn’t even notice. 

_ Maybe it was for the best. No good could come out of the two of them staying together. _

James had a wife to focus on. The weight of his family and their history on his shoulders, and most importantly, he had an unborn son to think about. 

_ Harry James Potter,  _ was all that mattered in the end. Everything else was just window dressings, and anyone can live without window dressings.

* * *

Dumbledore had just left; he didn’t know what they were going to do. Harry was nestled up tightly in Lily’s arms, sleeping without a care in the world with an innocence about him like nothing else James had ever known.

All the while the same thoughts echoed in his mind,  _ Why would that monster want to kill a baby? Why did that creature think his newborn son was an actual threat? Because some seer said so? The future wasn’t set in stone.  _

Ultimately, what mattered was what Voldemort believed it, and was seeking to end their newborn son because of it. Their son or the Longbottom’s boy. 

_ Was it horrible that a part of him wished the madman would focus on Neville?  _ He didn’t want anyone to die, but better someone else’s son than his own.

James had to fight back the burning desire to see Barty. He knew he needed him like he needed air to breathe. He knew however they had to stay put, stay hidden. But if no one ever saw him, would it be so bad?

“Merlin,” Lily muttered, shocking him back to the present with her shaking legs. “It feels like a dream, James. And we aren’t able to wake up from it.”

“More like a bloody nightmare,” James shot back. “But, Dumbledore is going to do his best and we can trust Sirius.”

Now, more than ever James had to meet with Barty. It had been months, months since he said goodbye but he knew deep down that Barty wasn’t like  _ those people _ ; those sycophants who wanted his son dead. He had to make sure Barty saw who he aligned himself with, had to wake him up, as he had promised he would so long ago. 

* * *

It was raining, a heavy downpour that seemed to drown everything, including the sounds of James’ footsteps on the cobblestones streets as he moved swiftly with the cloak wrapped around him like an old friend. 

Each step carried him closer to comfort or maybe it was doom. Either way James had to see him and if Barty betrayed him it would only be him who paid for it. Finding the flat was easy; it was a path he had walked many times. 

He kept the cloak securely around him, hood and all, but smiled as he considered the Muggles’ reaction to a floating head should he remove it before being let in. 

James raised his fist to knock when he reached the door. Barty opened it before the first knock and laughed, “James, I know it’s you so stop hiding from me.”

As soon as he was inside James threw the cloak off and pulled Barty close, kissing him. This made everything else feel less horrible even if Lily still knew something was up with him. Sometimes she would just stare at him, judging him. They would never be the same again, and as soon as things settled down Lily wanted a divorce. 

And James was going to give it to her. Neither of them could continue living this lie so coming here was not really a betrayal anymore, was it?

They pulled away, foreheads resting against the other. 

“I am sorry,” James said. “I couldn’t get away sooner.” 

“It’s fine,” he said, but the next came out like a jumbled mess. “No one wants to tell me what’s going on... then you sent that weird letter months ago and I just couldn’t figure it out.” 

“Shh,” the sound came out from his lips like a whisper. “It doesn’t matter and I’m here now, so let’s enjoy it, can’t we?”

Barty nodded, his blue eyes filled with unshed tears. They didn’t even make it to the bedroom before stripping off each other’s clothes.

“I don’t wanna fuck this time,” Barty whispered. “I just want you to hold me. Can you do that?”

“Let’s do that,” James said. “We can just hold each other and forget everything else.” They lost themselves as their skin rejoiced in the innocent touches once again. This was what love truly was. Being wrapped in each other's arms under a pile of blankets and never wanting to leave. 

James wished he could have bottled that moment, the way life was supposed to be. They stole moments like this for the next year, each time making it harder for him to leave. 

Lily didn’t ask, nor pester, and he never offered any details. So when Sirius and Lily came to him insisting that they needed to switch secret keepers to Peter, he ignored the pit in his stomach that this was the wrong idea, feeling as if he owed Lily. How could he judge a situation such as this properly with all the secrets he kept?

* * *

James tied another letter to Harvey’s leg for Barty. This time begging him once more to switch sides. That at the very least if something did go wrong that he needed to fling himself at the feet of the legal system. Tell them he was young and influenced by a madman. Throw Snape under the bus if Barty had to.

The world would be a better place with someone like Snape behind bars, but that was just a bonus. 

James needed to make sure he did everything to ensure Barty saved his own neck. With the Headmaster taking his cloak, he had to sign the letter with I love you, please remember that if nothing else, to ensure his message was received along with his distant devotion. 

Swiping away a tear he remembered Dumbledore catching him on his way to Barty. Lily must have ratted him out because he had scarcely made it out of the Fidelius and the old coot could see him, even under the cloak. He questioned his sanity, asking why he would put himself at risk, his family at risk, reminding him of how unsafe it was for him.

Then his only way out of his self-made prison was taken away from him. It was his choices that led to this moment, but the knowledge didn’t change the way he felt. Knowing you were the cause of the noose around your neck didn’t change that there was a bloody noose around your neck.

James felt it then the dark magic, cutting through the air like a sword, snapping him from his thoughts. It was Halloween. A night of power and history for all magic folks. He saw it then, already knowing what he would see.

The Dark Mark cut through the night sky bringing terror to his heart and mind. James Potter knew in this instant that he was going to die. Their escape was gone and it had been Lily who had insisted upon it. But, it wasn’t her fault it was his. His desperate need to see Barty damning them all to death and the cloak into the hands of another. 

They were coming and there was nothing that James could do about it. Not a bloody damn thing. It was his fault this was happening, whether it be that Barty followed him back, sharing his secret with his fellow Death Eaters or because he didn’t listen to his gut feeling that they shouldn’t trust Peter. 

Now, all that mattered was trying to protect Harry. 

“Lily, take Harry and go!” James shouted. “I’ll hold him off!” 

He knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold Voldemort off, but he would try. He had heard somewhere that when you know you are about to die your life flashes before your eyes. James didn’t experience that, instead he heard his mother’s singing voice, her Romanian accent still heavy even years away from her homeland, wrapping itself around him. 

“ _ O ye’ll take the high road and I’ll take the low road _ ,”

James heard the sound of them coming up the front doorsteps. The floorboard was still loose and he would never have a chance to fix it. Such a silly thing to think about, wasn’t it?

“ _ And I’ll be in Scotland afore ye _ ,”

His mum learned this song from his grandmother, an old Scottish woman he never got the chance to meet. 

“ _ But me and my true love will never meet again _ ,” 

Was his true love Lily?  _ The woman who was surely hiding upstairs, who would desperately try with all her might and courage to protect their son?  _

_ Or was it a man with hair that fell into his bright blue eyes and laughed at his jokes like they actually were funny? What was love but chemicals in your brain causing you to do things that would only bring you to your doom?  _ Love was for fools. Silly, crazy, bloody fools and yet love was worth dying for. 

But, the most important thing was the love a parent felt for their child. Everything else didn’t matter - not in the end.

“ _ On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond _ ,”

_ Be a better man than I will ever be Harry _ , James thought.  _ And know that I love you. No matter what, I love you and you were worth everything. _

His mother was on the other side waiting for him. But, James had someone he needed to wait for before he could join her. 

It seemed James would be taking the low road and Barty would be taking the high road. He finally knew what that meant now one was to die and the other was to live.

* * *

Harry stepped forward to take custody of Barty Crouch Jr. The man was hunched over and looked as if a strong wind would blow him over. There were shackles on his gaunt wrists hung so loosely that one swift movement would get them off. 

But there was no point for such an action from the dying man with nowhere to run. 

“Take them off of him,” he said to the guard. 

“Mr. Potter,” the guard responded, “are you sure? You know who this is, don’t ya?”

“It’s  _ Head  _ Auror Potter. I do and I said take them off,” he muttered. “He’s dying sir. If Mr. Crouch tries to escape? I can stop him.” 

The red haired man muttered and did as he was told. Harry took a hold of Barty and wrapped his cloak around the man as he did so. 

“You look like your father,” Barty whispered. “Besides…”

Very few people said that now. Mostly due to the fact that most of those who knew his parents were long dead. 

“The eyes,” Harry added. “I know, I have my mother’s eyes.”

As they walked to the boat Harry thought back to the hell he raised to save this man, inadvertently allowing for his escape, but thankfully he was recaptured and had spent the rest of his day's in prison. The real reason, however, was his and Hermione's push that even prisoners deserved respectable deaths to move into the next great adventure.

Since no one else wanted to deal with the man who locked Alastor Moody in a trunk for a year, here he was helping this gaunt man into a boat .

Harry grabbed the oars and started to row the boat out to sea. 

“I knew your father,” the other man mumbled, digging into his trouser pockets.

Harry said nothing. What was there to say? 

“We were as close as two people could be,” Barty coughed. “But, not until after school. I was a Ravenclaw.”

Harry stared out at the sea. “I thought all Death Eaters were…”’

“Slytherins?” Laughed the dying man. “Nope. He attracted despondent people from all houses.”

He remembered Hermione had said that once, but had only thought it was one of her silly rants she always got into.

“I loved him and think he might have loved me.”

“He couldn’t have,” Harry growled. “My father wouldn’t-”

“Love a Death Eater?” Barty cut him off, crossing his frail arms over his chest. “Well he did and I have proof.”

“No,” he snarled. “My father wouldn’t love a killer.”

“I have done many bloody things in my life Harry James Potter, but killing is not one of them.”

“But the…”

“Longbottoms?” Barty asked, but answered his own question. “Bellatrix forced me. I hid in a closet with the baby and prayed to Merlin that they wouldn’t go looking for either of us. Not everything is what it seems, Harry, always remember that.” 

“Then why in the world did you try to kill me?” Harry asked. “Why did you go back to Voldemort?”

Barty stared out blankly at the waves before him, “because, I had forgotten who I was. The dementors, they prey upon your guilt. They twist it and warp it into something that makes you able to know who you are or what you are supposed to be. When you saved me I remembered your father and the man I once was. Harry, I will always be grateful for that. It was a gift like nothing else. Even behind those walls I was able to remember who I was. Here you should have this.” 

The man handed him a folded up faded piece of parchment. A plea from one lover to another from a lifetime ago and Harry began to read it. His mind, as he took in the information went to Theo who was waiting at home, worried about him. Surely terrified about the Death Eater he was transporting could attempt to harm him.

But he wouldn't hurt him, at least he didn’t think so, if he had held onto this note. In another life Crouch might have been his step father. It seems there was something beyond his looks that Harry had inherited from his father. Maybe he should hate the man for cheating on his mother and sleeping with the enemy, but it would be the pot calling the kettle black. 

Theo might not have been a marked Death eater, but he was close enough for Ron to not speak to Harry again. Something about him being a bastard who broke his sister’s heart for a tainted man. Harry spent years wondering what his father might think of him and now the answer was right in front of him.

Barty’s chest no longer rose and fell. The man was dead. Harry hoped that his father and his lover were once again reunited. They both deserved it even if their paths led down different roads.

* * *

_ He’s here _ , James thought,  _ I can feel it in every part of me.  _

The door of the cottage opened and Barty Crouch Jr stood in the doorway. A shy, relieved smile graced his face like he had done so long ago, lighting up the room. 

“I missed you so much, Jamie,” Barty breathed. 

“I love you, Barty,” James said. “We can stay here for as long you want or we can go on further. It’s your choice.”

“I don’t care,” he said, “so long as I am with you.”

James pulled him in for a kiss. They had forever to consider what to do. A million lifetimes and he only wanted to spend it with this man. 


End file.
